Darkness greeted me when I opened my eyes this morning, along with a random man yelling outside on the street at 5 something in the morning. Oh how I love living in the city.

I’m freshly back from Vietnam and the 12 hour time difference has turned me into a morning person… for now at least. The early morning quiet, my recent birthday, this trip, its all made me a bit reflective. Reminded me how much power there is in noticing, in slowing down to take it all in rather than sprint from thing to thing. I’m bad at the slowness, but trying to get better at it.

Here’s what I noticed in Vietnam.

A glimpse of a dog on a moped in Ho Chi Minh.

Most of the cities we visited lacked sidewalks, so we made our way around in a Grab (their version of Uber) or by walking in the street playing frogger with traffic. But there’s rules to the madness. Mopeds and cars flow through streets that seem too small for the volume of traffic. Everything inches forward with as little stopping as possible. People slow down, make space, weave around each other. No one slams to a halt unless they absolutely must.

It felt chaotic, but it was also strangely gentle.

Vietnam is one of the world’s largest coffee producers and you can tell. Coffee shops are everywhere, from shiny chain storefronts to tiny corner spots with plastic stools. I don’t drink coffee every day in the US, but found myself loving a little daily Vietnamese iced coffee. Strongly brewed robusta (rather than the arabica we’re more used to) with its more bitter flavor profile tempered by sweetened condensed milk is the vibe. And the ice. The abundance of ice. As an American and a sweaty girl who regularly loses fights with humidity, I felt seen.

After working my way through as many dishes as my body could reasonably manage, I get why Westerners rave about Vietnam as a food destination. Flavor profiles lean mild and aromatic, layered with herbs, sweetness and low to moderate heat. And the country has more vegan and vegetarian restaurants than almost anywhere I’ve ever been. So food is delicious, approachable for folks who can’t tolerate much heat, and there’s lots of options ranging from meat centric dishes to completely vegan.

One day I want to go back to explore the extremes. The innovative high end stuff and the hyper local street food. Let me eat both. I will say I’ll be bring hot sauce with me when I go back as I like the spice and need a bit more of it.

My time in Vietnam also reminded me how common travel stories deal in exploitation. How we hype “cheap” airbnbs and recommend them back and forth even though we know they raise housing prices and strain supply. How we’ll spend thousands on airfare just to claim we got “scammed” when a vendor asks us to pay 50 cents more for an item.

I had custom clothes made on this trip. For a curvy girl who can walk an entire mall and find absolutely nothing in her size, I can only describe the experience as incredibly affirming. I shared a bit about the process and almost immediately, people started commenting that I overpaid. Apparently I could have had real cashmere sweaters made for twenty dollars.

If a team of people is staying up overnight to sew custom clothing for my body, then meeting me early the next morning for fittings to finish everything in a single day, and they want fifty dollars for a pair of pants, I’m not apologizing for paying fifty dollars.

I’ve noticed that our travel culture often treats poor communities as content. Background characters. Opportunities. And I hate it here.

Filling my bottle up from a stream in Pakistan.

I’ve brought my LifeStraw filter bottle on every single trip I’ve taken for years. I’ve filled it up with tap water and from dubious sources around the world without thinking twice. It’s my travel workhorse so I don’t get sick and can avoid buying single use plastic when possible. I even got a filter tumbler with a straw recently as the tap water in my apartment tastes like ass.